Better Than Anyone
by Ryetsei
Summary: After so many Christmases spent alone, trapped in yearning, will this year bring new joy to the desolate life of Haruno Sakura? OneShot, Yuri, minor AU, InoSaku (An homage to my first ever fanfiction; a special Christmas treat :D).


_Disclaimer: I am not responsible for the creation of any characters, locales, techniques herein; they are the intellectual property of Masashi Kishimoto._

Sakura awoke, as she did near every morning, in complete silence. All about her, surrounding and enveloping, the same silence that always greeted her. It was Christmas, she knew; yet there were no gifts beneath her tree, nor for that matter was there even a tree for said presents. How many years it had been since she'd given up hope of such things? If she'd still been counting, she would still have lost the number. When she'd become a shinobi, her parents had simply disappeared. She supposed she couldn't blame them, they knew nothing of the world hidden beneath the still water of the everyday. She would never know whether they left for her sake or their own, but so long as she was alone she could hold out hope for the former. She kicked her legs over the side of her bed, hardly more than a mattress sprawled across the undecorated floor, treated bamboo and wood panel, the same as all the other orphans. She would never know the great halls of the Hyuuga, done up in immaculate white to celebrate the holidays, nor the famous feasts of the Akimichi gatherings, nor even the cold and calculating games of the Nara as they awaited the fated morning. It was rumored that gifts were distributed by merit, only the winners receiving reward for their toils. Even that, she imagined, was preferable to nothing at all. When she rose, her bare feet trailed across the wood just as quietly as she'd awoke, matching in kind the eerie silence of the village so early in the morning. Somewhere, she imagined, there were children squealing for their parents to wake, to unwrap and reveal the only gifts they would receive for the year. Most of the villagers were so poor, hand-made gifts had become the norm. Trains carved from the mighty pines and redwoods surrounding the village walls, the lucky ones beautiful crafts created with delicate Ninjutsu. The best of the best were the snow globes, treasures from the eastern islands, small domes enchanted with a Genjutsu of endless snowfall. Simple, for any shinobi with the talent, yet she would be glad beyond expression to have received even one.

Stripping from her bedclothes, the same silence wrapped about the kunoichi in dressing as it had in waking. She would have to see the team later on, so she dressed in her usual outfit. Practical and combat-ready, not without a hint of a more traditional time, she remembered modeling it after one of her mother's dresses. It was the last one she could remember, honestly. The red and white were perfect, this time of year. Perhaps it had been her mother's holiday dress she remembered, for all she knew it might have been the only time of year she was able to wear it. Was it a gift from her father, perhaps? She'd had so many questions for so very long, all the while knowing she could never find the answers. She would cry, were she not embarrassed to do so. Even to herself, Sakura could never admit that she missed them. She had neither the strength to pull on her shoes, nor to strap her feet into them. She had no need to leave just yet, after all, and the tendrils of cold creeping in beneath her door felt pure and clean upon her toes. It was a rare feeling, these days, and she chose to treasure such sentiment where she did find it. What with all the blood, the death and the war, it was hard to recapture such simplicity. She would have welcomed frostbite if she could only keep it forever. Her eyes drifted to the window, wishing for a single breeze to pierce the half-broken pane. No such wind came; no snowflakes blustered in only to melt seconds later. There was snow on the ground, yes, but none falling on this fated morning. When she'd finished tying her hair back, her Kumite serving as well as any headband, she rose from her bed and stepped quickly toward to the window. Flicking aside the latch and the lock, she had to struggle for a moment to raise the thing. Snow sat upon the sill, freezing her portal shut. She might have shattered it all with a single jerk, a tearing upward, but she dared not risk breaking the window. There was more winter to come, after all, and she might not desire its breath upon her every day so much as she did then. Desire it she did, however, and soon her window was open wide. The breath of the winter, unyielding and frigid, brought her calm. She could never count on presents, or upon family, even visits from friends, but the sheer cold was eternally there. She closed her eyes as it passed over her faces, biting at her ears, bringing her cheeks to a deep flush. Her bare arms shivered, goose-bumps rising upon the milky surface of her skin. She was always so pale by this time of year, but she thought she liked that more than the dark tone of the summer heat. It felt more natural, more innocent, than all that. Like the dress, it seemed to return her to that time when things were easy, when they were innocent and without consequence. It was in the midst of such thinking that a knock rang out upon her door.

It was unexpected, to say the least. The last time Sakura had received such a knock it had been carolers, she remembered, perhaps two years before. She didn't think they'd come back after she'd nearly broken down in tears before their first song was over. Years before that, she received another such knock, when she was still a student at the Academy. When she answered she'd found a small box, coated in shoddy wrapping, no card to be found. Flowers, that's what had been inside. Some had wilted before she'd even opened the box, most of the others after a day or two in the open air. Only one survived to see New Year's Day, but she had kept it upon her table long afterward. It had been her last Christmas present. Walking toward the door, without the slightest hint of expectation as to what might await her there, her silence finally broke. Her door gave the faintest creak as it opened, the hinges old and worn by her endless departures. She would have thought to oil them, had her jaw not been hanging agape at what awaited her eyes.

"I…Ino…" she said, her voice hardly a whisper. She was tempted to rub her eyes; she was so startled, it was hard to believe that the girl before her was real. The two hadn't spoken since they'd been placed upon separate teams, months ago now. Even before that, their relationship had become strained. Their competition had shifted quickly from friendly to fierce.

"Um…" Her oldest friend stared down at her feet, wrapped tightly in the tabi worn by all shinobi of the leaf. "Merry Christmas, Sakura." Sakura's throat tightened. What was this all of a sudden, some cruel trick? Was this no more than a taunt, some attempt to get a rise out of her? As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she regretted thinking it. It was Christmas, even Ino could not be so cruel.

"Thank you," she replied, moments later. "Th-thank you, Ino." She could feel the wetness building beneath her eyelids, threatening to pour forth. Even doing her best to keep it inside, a single tear betrayed her. She felt her friends' arms around her shoulders before she saw her move, before she'd even had a chance to brush away her shame.

"I thought you might be like this. Don't think I didn't notice how you always get around Christmas-time." Had she always been so obvious? She'd never let them see her cry, hear her silent prayers for friends, family, for any company at all. After all her training, was she so very easy to read? "It's not a bad thing to be honest." With those simple words, the sobs began. "You don't have to hide from me." Sakura had never had to hide from her. She always had, she'd always been so embarrassed to admit even the simplest things to her friend, but she had always cared for. As her arms rose to return the blond-haired girl's soft embrace, her sobs sunk into the deep violet fabric upon her shoulder.

"Not anymore." She replied, muffled by Ino's shirt. Her friend laughed. Her laugh always seemed so brash, so unrestrained when they were out in public, Sakura could never say she'd enjoyed it. Here though, quiet and personal, it seemed to ring so perfectly. Here, in her house, upon Christmas, it was as though she was seeing the Ino she'd always loved for the first time in an eternity.

"You might have to speak up, Sakura, I didn't quite catch that one." The bells of her laughter rang out even as she spoke. It was entrancing, so utterly honest. When she looked into Ino's eyes, the sound of it seemed to ring in their deep lilac rings.

"Not anymore." She said. Before she'd finished, she'd begun leaning toward her friend. Not toward her shoulder, not to sink in and simply cry the feelings out. When her lips pressed against the taller girl's, the moment seemed complete.

It had been years since the two had done such things; before, they had been no more than children, playing a silly game without an audience. They had always said to pretend it was Sasuke, and that they were merely practicing for some untold future. When Ino's grip around her tightened, and her lips pushed back, both knew instinctively the nature of that great lie. Sakura had begun softly, so as not to press the matter, but as she felt her friend's lips part before hers she drove forward. In a split second, sadness was turned relief, relief to joy and joy into an unknown passion. Her merely being here had said enough, she'd thought. It had seemed so late, once they had become Genin, to admit these unfamiliar feelings to one another. Yet here they were, months and more gone by since the last time they'd even spoke, engulfed in the same surge of emotion. Every kiss grew harder, vicious, Sakura drawn ever onward by the faint nibbles her partner planted upon her lip. All the times they'd done this in mock, in mere pretend and fantasy, paled in comparison to this sudden release, unspeakable yet real. Every movement she made was matched in kind; her hand sliding down the other girl's back quickly met with Ino's hand, guiding it ever further. There was no stopping, not now. Her mind, previously so wrought with worry and resentment, was consumed by revelation, by desire honest and unadulterated. She barely heard the usually loud click of the door as Ino swung it shut, but she certainly noticed when her hand returned to her body. Her fingers were so very cold, fresh from the chilled metal of the doorknob, as they ran up her bare leg. She could feel the blond girl's lips curl into a smile when she reached far enough to notice that Sakura hadn't yet replaced her underclothes. Her usual shorts, tight yet flexible, lay folded in her drawer, forgotten. The fingers slowed, yet never stopped; Sakura could feel her breathing growing faster with every second. She heard herself moan into Ino's mouth when those fingers began tracing circles, stalling. Never once had the two girls come so far, yet ever movement seemed rehearsed to the point of perfection. No mistakes, no restraint, no deceit. Sakura broke first from the kiss.

"What are you waiting for?" She cooed. She planted a kiss upon her friend's neck, offering up her own tender bite. When Ino obliged her, her teeth nearly drew blood. No, there was certainly no turning back now. Forgetting her task at once, her lips returned to the other girl's, plunging into her mouth, parting her lips without resistance.

She could feel the icy cool shoot up inside her, so suddenly she nearly cried. When Ino felt her cringe, she took her cue. Pushing forward, suddenly their kiss was entirely under her control. Sakura had always been the dominant one, always pushing further, all in hopes of arousing some response. Now she had it, she was consumed by it. Raising her legs, she wrapped them about her friend's waist as tightly as she dared, her hips bucking ever so softly. A few steps and they stopped. A second later Sakura could feel the warmth of her mattress against her back. Her eyes were closed shut now, her lips parted ever so slightly. Her friend was unrelenting, however, driving deeper now than she had when they were standing. She could feel her body coiling around the other girl's fingers. She didn't notice herself making any noise, not since the first entry, but she was sure her breathing had picked up. She could barely keep her eyes open as it was, when Ino pressed a second finger against her.

"I know you better than anyone," She whispered between kisses. When she pushed forward, the additional girth slid in without any trouble at all. Sakura drew in a deep gasp, exhaling in short squeals. It was unimaginable. "I've always known best." She did; she had. There had never been anyone else, never once had she let anyone grow so close. To know, here, today, that the unspoken desires had never just been hers, was electrifying her entire body. In an instant the loneliness was gone, the solitude and scorn disappeared. Breaking from her kiss again, Sakura's every breath was a moan. She could feel, it seemed, everything, all at once, consuming her mind and body. All the emotions, those expressed and those left undisclosed; all the feelings in her entire body, from the cool of her legs to the unfathomable heat between her legs. In an instant, everything was united, so perfect in its utter simplicity. She let it consume her mind, her body, everything that she called her self. The cry that surged from her lungs was like none of the others, even the ones earlier mere moments before. There was nothing quite like it. It was nearly a minute before she could muster a word.

"Ino…" she said, between breaths. Her fellow kunoichi couldn't wipe the smile from her face. "That's not fair." It was all she could manage, in that wondrous moment.

"Don't think we're done just yet." Ino replied. Sakura gasped again as her friend withdrew from within her, now slick and smooth, still highly sensitive. When her eyes finally opened again, she watched her friend lick the wetness from her fingers, not without some enjoyment. She was slow, thorough, sensual… Sakura couldn't look away. When she was finished, she pressed her fingers together, her hands forming an utterly perfect circle. Her hands pressed softly against Sakura's chest. "Shintenshin no Jutsu."

Everything was changed. For a second, Ino's body slumped on top of her, the strength gone from her muscles, pressing her hands ever harder against Sakura. Her mind was alight, filled, every emotion within her intensified tenfold. The two were closer than physical, bound on an entirely different plane. She could feel the other girl's chakra flowing through her body, coursing to her every extremity and exciting every one. Her eyes were open, but everything she saw was different, shifted. Ino raised her head, her gazes locked with Sakura's own. She wasn't just seeing it, she could feel it, every agonizing motion. She could see her own eyes through Ino's, and Ino's through her own. "I knew I could do it… if it was someone close, someone I knew… I knew I could." Her lips pressed down softly. So softly, slowly matching the shape of Sakura's own. It was such a cautious touch, so small a gesture, yet the kunoichi's entire body lit up again. She could feel her friend's excitement. Her hands grasped the cuff of her cropped shirt, pulling her inward, closer. She felt the other girl's needs as strongly as her own, her desire, her need. Her hands tore, doing away with the thin garment that only stood in her way. Ino pressed down harder, her hips sliding back and forth across Sakura's own, hypnotizing her. Her fingers played at the white cloth, bound across the blond's chest, loosening but not unraveling. There was no need for haste; each second seemed a minute, and she was drinking in every one. She felt her own breathing growing harder, faster, even when she thought it impossible. It took her a moment to realize it was Ino's breathing. Now it was her turn to smile, her turn to take.

"I know you better than anyone." Sakura said. Pulling softly, the binding fell to the floor. She did not stare, did not linger at the sight of her friend's breasts. Before she could step back enough to do so she was upon them, her lips grazing all the right places. She felt her mouth as though it was upon her own breast, hot, wet, everything she ever could have wanted. She could hardly tell whether her pleasure was Ino's or her own, she knew not which one of them it was giving and which receiving. Every desire was fulfilled in an instant, the tiniest discomfort dissolved in unity. She couldn't tell which one of them guided her hand down to the second set of bindings, hardly hidden beneath the high slit of Ino's skirt. The cloth was ever so slightly different from the first, bearing the faintest hint of dampness. As soon as Sakura noticed, she knew Ino had noticed that very same thing. She could feel the wetness spread even as she took notice. "…Better than anyone."

Sakura pressed softly at first, not bothering to unwind the length of cloth this time. No, there was no need. Even beneath the layers of white, she knew exactly what to do, where to go. When she pressed, her own body writhed in mirrored pleasure. There was no misstep, no wrongdoing, only tenderness. Suddenly, the moans were upon her other set of lips. She could feel sweat beginning to bead on her brow; which brow she could not say exactly, perhaps it was both. It didn't matter in the least. When she slipped a finger between the folds of cloth, she knew that neither of them was being silent.

"Stop teasing me," Ino begged, "stop." Sakura hadn't even needed to hear the words. Loosening once again, quicker this time, the cloth soon lay strewn across the bed. She was just beginning to wonder when it would be her turn when she felt Ino's fingers tracing up her ribcage, taking her dress along with it. She lifted herself from her friend's breast for but a moment, so the last of the fabric could pass over her head and onto the floor. It was only then she took a moment to finally sit back and drink everything in, visually, and capture it in her mind. She smiled, and Ino smiled back. Her body was beautiful, her arms and legs toned from hours and hours of training. Her skin, paler than Sakura's own, seemed almost to glisten in the early morning's light. Radiant was the only word she knew that fit. Her breasts were small, but larger than she remembered: the bindings left much and more to the imagination, it seemed. She could hardly resist the desire to feel them again, to make them yield beneath her lips. She didn't have to. Before the thought had finished crossing her mind the other girl was upon her again, her own breasts now aflame.

"Now, now," she said, voice soft, "That's not fair." Ino understood without another word. Placing a kiss on her stomach, just beneath her previous target, she closed her eyes. As her head moved downward, kisses trailing with her, her hand pushed Sakure into a lying position. When the pink-haired kunoichi felt the first teasing brush of Ino's tongue against her flesh, she very nearly lost her mind. When the other girl swung her body atop Sakura's own, she found it again quite easily. Wrapping her arms around the long legs atop her, she rested her hands upon Ino's ass. She immediately recognized how much she liked that. Pulling her close, she returned her friend's favor in earnest. The chakra surged between them, flowing through one and into the other, now utterly uncontrollable. Tongues lashed, fingers kneaded, cries began to grow louder and more frequent. In perfect harmony, total synchronization, the two had long since foregone their earlier caution and patience. Now there was naught but writhing, quivering and building ever higher. She could feel it coming on again, faster, stronger than before. Ino, too, had begun to let herself feel it. Ever closer it came, ever closer the two became. Suddenly it was all a competition, a final race to outdo all the others over the years. Breathing growing ever faster, Sakura's sheets soaked nearly through in places, neither showed willingness to yield. Ever onward, forward, desiring only the rapturous end to it all. Plunging her tongue as deep as she could muster, she felt Ino's scream muffled between her own legs, bringing her to the same point instantly. Utter bliss seemed to extend throughout the room, pushing back the walls and leaving only their two bodies, entwined, perfect. As they collapsed, chests heaving, Sakura spied a snowflake lazing wistfully toward her face. When it settled upon her nose, she knew the moment was complete. Ino, feeling the same snow, rolled over, nuzzling her friend's breast with her nose. It was then, in perfect unity, their passion now a whisper upon the winter air, that sleep claimed them, silent.


End file.
